Stupid Cranky Boyfriends
by sbdrag
Summary: Stories of how Adam Jensen and Frank Pritchard went from antagonistic coworkers to "in a relationship". Started as a one-shot in the first chapter and just keeps growing.
1. I Love This Bar

It was a dive. Billiards, darts, a bar in the middle of the room to accommodate more patrons. There was a dance floor, too, tucked into one corner. Trying to bring in a younger demographic, Adam guessed. It seemed to be working; the place was packed. There was some kind of sport playing on the multitude of television screens. Adam tried to follow to game, but he honestly just didn't care enough. He'd come here to get out of the rain, then staid to get drunk. And honestly, why not? He didn't work tomorrow, and it had been a while since he'd been able to let loose a bit.

"Johnnie Walker Blue Label, a double on the rocks."

SI's Head of Security started at the familiar voice. He turned his head. The seat next to him at the bar had just been vacated, then just as quickly taken again. And who should it be but Francis Wendell Pritchard, because apparently Adam couldn't have just one night to himself.

"That's not how you order scotch," he said, because he couldn't help himself. Pritchard turned his head, then did a double take.

"Jensen?" he asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. Adam noticed then that it was down, and the technician was in a black tee-shirt and jeans. As his surprise wore off, Frank glared. "Excuse me?"

"You don't get scotch on the rocks," Jensen replied, partially turning to face his colleague.

"Oh really?" Pritchard asked, as his drink arrived. He took it, and downed it definitely. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he signalled for another. "And I suppose that you consider yourself an expert, considering your rate of consumption?"

"You're one to talk, ordering a second double," Jensen said, wincing at the ruination of good whiskey.

"It's the weekend," Pritchard said. "This may come as a surprise to you, but some of us don't drink the entirety of the week."

"That's probably because most of the world doesn't have to deal with you on a daily basis," Jensen replied. Pritchard rolled his eyes, and sipped at his second scotch.

"I could say the same of you," he said. Then the man turned, leaning against the bar. "So tell me, monsieur connoisseur, _why_ don't you take scotch on the rocks?"

"It ruins the taste," Jensen replied. "Dilutes it with whatever minerals are in the ice."

"Are you serious?" Pritchard asked. "That's moronic."

"Excuse me?" Adam asked. It was, it seemed, his turn to be offended. Pritchard gestured.

"I'm trying to get drunk, and hard liquor happens to be the quickest means to the end," he said. "Who cares about the _taste_?"

"How about the brewers?" Jensen said, downing his own drink and ordering another.

"I doubt they care as long as they're getting money from it," Pritchard replied. "Just like any other producer of goods."

"Crafting whiskey is an _art_," Jensen said, and Pritchard scoffed, finishing off his second drink and putting the glass on the bar. "Brewery masters spend years perfecting-"

"Oh horseshit," Frank said. He seemed to be becoming more animated as the conversation went on. Effects of the alcohol? "The only people who care about that are snobs like _you_."

"Oh, _I'm_ a snob?" Jensen asked. "Because here I thought someone thought that I was the one drinking sewer water."

"You _do_ drink sewer water," Pritchard said, ordering a beer. It was clear the man was getting buzzed. "I wouldn't serve what you call _wine_ to a feral nomad."

"It's just sour grape juice, what does it matter?" Jensen said, goading the other man on. Maybe he was getting a little tipsy himself. Pritchard slammed his beer back on the bar.

"Sour-!" he sputtered. He pointed at Jensen accusingly. "Even a meat-head like you should be able to recognize the sophistication of a fine wine!"

"How can a drink you like be sophisticated?" Jensen replied. Pritchard threw his hands up.

"Pearls before swine, I swear!" he declared. "Wine is the royalty of alcohol! It's a carefully constructed, delicate drink meant to entice the palate and enhance the meal it's offered with. It's rich in subtly and flavor. Whiskey, on the other hand, is about as subtly as a steamroller. How can you even _taste_ anything with your throat destroyed?"

"Last I checked, you don't taste with your throat," Jensen replied. He'd finished his second drink, and ordered a third. He was actually beginning to enjoy himself, not that he would tell Pritchard that. Pritchard waved, nearly hitting his colleague in the face.

"You know what I mean!" he said. "It's distracting! But I suppose someone like you is just a glutton for pain, even when you're enjoying yourself."

"Someone like me?" Jensen asked. Pritchard gestured again, drinking his beer.

"You know… someone who… beats people up, for a living," he said. Jensen arched a brow.

"That's not exactly my job description, you know," he said. "Besides, my job is more making sure there isn't anyone I _need_ to beat up."

"Pfft," Pritchard replied, getting another beer. "Please. You _like_ the danger. Why else would you have gone to SWAT?"

"I could have been trying to, I don't know, protect people?" Jensen replied. Frank shook his head, taking another swig.

"Not good enough," he said. "Could have become a beat cop. Some other kind of… civil servant. You like being the hero, Jensen, but not _that_ much."

"What makes you say that?" This had to be good. Apparently, Pritchard wasn't very good at holding his drinks. Adam was buzzed, but Pritchard was borderline drunk.

"Because," Frank said, pausing to have a drink, "_You_ are like me."

"I'm like _you_?" Adam asked, honestly too surprised to have any other reaction. Frank nodded.

"You like the _challenge_," he said. "The… thrill of doing things other people… can't. Or just… doing _better_ than… than…"

The technician sighed, apparently losing his train of thought. Adam took the beer from him, making the man jump in surprise.

"I think you've had enough," Jensen said, setting the beer on the bar. Pritchard pushed away from the bar, to face it.

"Who are you to say I've-whoa," he said, steadying himself using Adam's shoulder as he half stumbled forward. When he managed to get himself upright, he looked at his colleague, then away. "Perhaps you have a point."

"Uh-huh," Jensen said. "Are you always such a lightweight?"

"Well, excuuse me, not all of us are functioning alcoholics," Pritchard said. "Not that it matters with an iron stomach…"

"Tell me how you really feel, Francis," Adam said, turning to help his colleague back to leaning against the bar. Mainly because he didn't consider balancing post a part of his job description. Even if having someone else's heat against him had been… nice. Regardless of the person.

"How I really…?" the question seemed to confuse the drunken technician. "What do you?"

Adam stopped to consider. It had really just been a sarcastic remark, he hadn't even thought about. But now he saw possibilities. So he turned, facing his colleague again.

"What is it you think of me, Francis?" he asked, gauging the man's reaction. Pritchard scoffed.

"I thought that was obvious," he said, finishing off the beer . Adam rolled his eyes at that. But then he noticed his colleague was staring at the bottle. "It isn't is it?"

"Isn't what?" Jensen asked, twisting to look at Pritchard's face. The other man looked at him, then blinked.

"Obvious," he said. "That I… uh… hm."

"That you what, Francis?" Jensen asked. Pritchard shook his head, then looked away.

"Stupid," Frank said. Then he whipped his head around, pointing. "I'm just as good as you are, you know!"

"What?" Adam asked, taken aback by the abrupt change in attitude. Frank waved his finger around as he spoke.

"Everyone thinks you're sush hot shit," he said. "But I do just as mush for Sarif Indus-industrees as you! I'd like to shee you try'n shtop shomeone in tha network with your fanshee augs!"

"Alright, here we go," Adam said, getting another drink. It was actually kind of entertaining, seeing Pritchard so… articulate.

"Jus' cause you've got… good looks and… attractive voish…"

Adam nearly spit out his drink, covering his mouth to keep it in. He looked at his colleague in surprise.

"Thas why they like you, it has ta be," he went on, seemingly unaware of what he was saying. "You don' like people, and you're not even… nice… so it mus be… right?"

Adam rested his chin on his hand, not really sure what to do with that. Was Pritchard, possibly, _jealous_? Of him? This was interesting. Jensen finished his drink.

"You think my voice is attractive?" he asked, leaving money on the counter. He even paid for Pritchard's drinks, because at this point, why not. Frank looked over and blinked at him, as if he'd forgotten he was there. He looked at the bottle in his hand, then back at Adam. He put the bottle down, placed a hand on his colleague's shoulder, and leaned in.

"How mush have I had to drink?" he asked. Jensen felt himself smiling.

"Couple of whiskey doubles and a beer," he replied. Frank nodded solemnly.

"And did I say I think your voish is shexy?" he asked. Adam drummed his fingers on the bar, unable to stop grinning. It was, he had to admit, unexpected and flattering.

"No, you did not," he said. Frank nodded again, leaning up but not pulling away.

"Good, you're not shupposhed to know tha'," he said, patting Jensen's shoulder.

"Why is that?" Adam asked.

"Becaushe you're inshufferibibble," Pritchard said, throwing up his hands. "Wouldn' let me hear tha end of it."

"You have a point there," Adam said, standing. It seemed to unbalance Pritchard, who readjusted his grip on the other man's shoulder.

"Goin' shomewhere?" he asked. Jensen snorted.

"How'd you get here, Francis?" he asked.

"Mo'orshycle," Pritchard replied.

"And how did you plan on getting home?"

"I didn'."

Adam felt his brow raise higher than he thought it ever had before. But Pritchard had looked over to the packed little dance floor.

"Do'you… wanna dance?" he asked, looking back at Jensen. The augmented man considered. This night was certainly turning out differently than he'd expected. He nodded, leading the way to the floor.

Adam wasn't really one for crowds, or dancing. What he was, however, was curious. So he slipped into the crowd, pulling his drunk colleague behind him, until they were both in the thick of things. There was some kind of electronic music playing, but what really hit them was the pumping bass.

To Jensen's surprise, Pritchard could, in fact, dance. The man was fluid, lithe. He moved with the music, naturally, letting it roll over him and flow in through the soles of his feet. Adam found himself a little bit entranced, just watching the man move. And then he flinched at the feeling of hands over his. Frank moved Adam's hands onto his waist, and leaned up to speak into his ear.

"You aren't moving," he said, which was true. So the head of security let his colleague guide him along. His Sentinel Health program was going to work on his inebriation already, but he still had enough to buzz to just… let go. He let himself relax, let himself move against the man in front of him. He watched him through half lidded eyes, the way the lights played on his face. The way he was watching right back, with a look like he was in a dream. Adam briefly wondered if this was something his colleague had dreamed about, and decided the thought didn't bother him.

When Frank pressed up and kissed him, it wasn't a surprise. It was more like a natural progression, in this case. Adam let one of his hands slide into the small of his companion's back, and the other man pressed into him. Frank's hands slid up Adam's chest, to cup both sides of his face. Adam's other hand slid down to squeeze Pritchard's ass. The technician actually jumped a little, breaking the kiss. He met Adam's eyes, then kissed him again, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders. Adam kept Frank pulled against him, forgetting where they were.

Until someone elbowed him in the back. And then he was reminded, and pulled back. He felt suddenly claustrophobic and overheated. Pritchard tucked his face into Adam's neck, and the head of security also remembered just how much his colleague had had to drink. He sighed, then spoke loud enough for Pritchard to hear.

"Wanna go somewhere?" he asked. Pritchard nodded, and Jensen used his bulk and strength to push his way back out of the crowd. He was not particularly patient at this point, but that had more to do with wanting to get into his own space than anything else. He did manage to make it out of the crowd, and then pulled Pritchard along into the night air.

The technician leaned and stumbled against Adam as the head of security lead him along. Fortunately, Jensen's apartment was only about twenty minutes away. He had no idea where Pritchard lived, but the main point was to keep the man from driving and from going home with a random stranger. And maybe make out some more because if he was being honest, Adam had really been enjoying himself with that.

They managed to stumble through Adam's door without incident, and once the door was closed, Frank turned to lean up and kiss the other man again. Adam let the door take his weight. He could taste the booze from earlier, but it didn't bother him at the moment. He did, however, make a decision to move to the couch before Pritchard either passed out or tried to move himself.

"Whoa," Frank said, quietly, as Adam picked him up. His legs wrapped around the man's waist, mostly on instinct, his arms around Jensen's shoulders as he was carried across the room. Adam sat down on the couch, but with an affectionate drunk in his lap, it wasn't long before sitting turned into laying down. Or to falling asleep because, hey, one of them is drunk and this is oddly comfortable.

It's Frank that wakes up first. His head feeling like a drummers practice room and his stomach lurching like an undead monstrosity, he didn't move at first. He also could not for the life of him remember who it was he was currently sleeping on top of. That had been the point, of course, but something in the back of his mind was telling him he was forgetting something. So, pressing his eyes a little more into his sleeping partner's scratchy neck (huh, weird, he wasn't usually into men with facial hair), he tried to think back.

He gone out to the Lonely Boot to get drunk and have a fling the way he usually did every couple of months (when feeling lonely and pathetic managed to outweigh his general good sense and hatred of people), and he'd started the night, as always, with a double scotch on the rocks. And then… he'd gotten in an argument. Who was he arguing with? He usually didn't even start talking to people until he was tipsy. So then who….

The man under him was snoring. Normally, Frank found the noise of it annoying and a reason to get up, find his clothes and walk away before anyone was the wiser, but in this case, something was different. It wasn't this loud, grating noise like an engine backfire, it was… soft. Sort of a little snuffling noise with a scoff. A scnuffle? Something like that. It was… endearing, in a way. Cute. Frank started move his arm, carefully trying to extract himself without waking his partner, when his fingers brushed something metal, or metal like.

And then it hit him.

He wanted to groan, but managed to keep himself quiet. If his head wasn't already providing the sensation for him, he'd soon find a wall to bash his skull against. Why? Because he'd let himself get drunk around Adam _fucking_ Jensen, and there was no telling how they had ended up… where were they, anyway?

Cautiously as he could, fighting his vicious hangover, Frank pushed himself up enough to look around. Jensen's apartment, boxes still packed and littered around the room. The living room. Where they were both still fully clothed. Pritchard sighed in relief. Well, at least things hadn't progressed too far. And then he actually felt a little pang at that, because he'd probably been drunk enough to just throw himself at his colleague and nothing had happened. With a softer sigh, Frank decided it was time for him to make his way home.

But when he turned, he paused. Adam looked… peaceful, when he slept. His shades retracted, his face less tense. He probably still had nightmares, but even so, he looked… happier, maybe.

Of course, it was at this moment the bastard chose to wake with a start.

The men stared at each other. Adam wondered how this had seemed like such a good idea the night before. Bringing Pritchard back to his apartment? _Pritchard? Really?_ And he'd been the sober one! And now he'd have to explain what had happened, and hopefully he could play it off as also being drunk, and Frank wouldn't bring up the Sentinel Health program, and-

"Uh… morning," the man in question said. Honestly, in another situation, his deer-in-the-headlights look would have probably amused Adam. Now, however…. "Um, uh… b-breakfast?"

"Uh," Adam said, very articulate. Breakfast, right, breakfast would have been a good distraction. If he kept anything in his kitchen other than children's cereal and booze. Did he even have milk? Had he needed to get more? Did he have clean dishes?

"Oh, right, of course," Pritchard said, seeming to regain some hold on himself. "I forgot you subsist entirely on bad decisions and _ennui_."

And, just like that, the spell was broken.

"_I'm_ making bad decisions?" Adam asked. Frank rolled his eyes, and gave into his pounding head by laying back down. He didn't even have the wherewithal to react to Jensen's hand gently carding through his hair.

"Oh, shut up, at least I was drunk," he muttered.

"Yes, clearly, that makes _planning_ to go home and sleep with a complete stranger _so_ much better," Jensen replied. He should probably get up, be a good host and get his colleague some water and an advil. He found, however, he was completely unable to force himself to do so. Maybe later, when he and Pritchard came more to their senses.

"Not all of us have the advantage of your overbearing masculine presence," Frank shot back, and shifted to settle more comfortably against the man beneath him. If he was going to stay and cuddle with his antagonistic co worker, he might as well enjoy it.

"Mm, or a sexy and attractive voice?" Adam asked. Frank made a noise of both surprise and embarrassment, something of a deep indignant squeak.

"I-! Ugh, I don't even have a defense for that," the technician said, and it made Adam chuckle. Pritchard was surprised to find he liked that sound.

"No? Well, maybe you could regale me about how else you secretly find me attractive," he said. Frank weakly hit his shoulder.

"Don't be an ass, some of us still get hangovers," the man said. Adam laughed again, letting his eyes slip closed. It wasn't like he had anywhere to be. He might as well enjoy this. And then he smirked, a truly devilish thought occurring to him.

"Then would you rather I tell you how I find you attractive?" he asked. Frank hit him again, harder this time.

"I'd appreciate it if you just dropped the subject," he said.

"But then I couldn't talk about your eyes being limpid pools of desire," Adam replied. Frank pushed himself up enough to glare. Adam just grinned, like a mischievous child. That really shouldn't be endearing.

"Really? That's the best you can do? Limpid pools of desire?" the technician asked. Adam blinked a little owlishly, then snorted. He still smiled, but there was something more… sincere, about it. Something kind. His hand dragged gently through the back of Pritchard's hair, which felt divine, not that he'd ever tell the insufferable man. He had a feeling he really didn't need to, though.

"Alright, then," Jesen said, softer. "Then how about I like you?"

"... don't patronize me," Frank said, starting to get up. An arm wrapped around his waist to stop him.

"Stubborn, sarcastic, cynical, short tempered and a general pain in the ass," Jensen said.

"Well, thank you, Jensen, I feel flattered," Frank said, but he knew the man wasn't done. Jensen was quiet, so Pritchard gave in and looked at him.

"You care a lot more than you want people to know, don't you?" Adam asked. The question caught Frank off-guard. And it clicked. Jensen hadn't been insulting him, he'd been listing his walls. All the ways he kept people at a distance. Frank tried coming up with a biting remark that would turn this around. He noticed how close their faces were, and wondered how Adam would react if they kissed. Again. Sober. And Adam seemed to think it, too, eyes darting down to Pritchard's lips and back up.

He couldn't do this, not now.

"Don't be stupid," he said instead, laying his head back down. Adam didn't press him, and he was grateful for that. He'd leave later, and pretend none of this had ever happened. Adam would move on to some pretty woman, and forget this conversation.

Except he didn't. And he became a regular at the bar, and whenever Frank got too drunk (which was why he went to the bar in the first place), he ended up in Adam's apartment. They never did anything, but Frank was starting to wonder what would happen if they did. And the apartment was getting cleaner and unpacked. The kitchen was stocked. Granted, it was only stocked with breakfast food, but it _was_ stocked. Raging hangovers became regular hangovers. Awkward wake up conversations became breakfast. Collapsing on the couch became slipping into bed. Before Frank had quite realized what had happened, he was in a relationship with his, as it turned out, not so unagreeable co worker. Colleague. Boyfriend.

And he was, he found, surprisingly alright with that.


	2. Extra Key

Frank looked at the time in the corner of his screen. 10:57PM. He stretched in his seat. He'd just finished running a connectivity test through all of Sarif Industries's new routers, which had taken most of the day to work the bugs out of. There were sure to be more problems popping up with VPNs and ACL configurations in the next few months, but for now, everything was working.

He wasn't working for the next few days, and it had been a couple months since he'd last gone out. A quick stop at home to change, and then he could head out to the Lonely Boot to check out the crowd. No doubt Jensen would be there since he'd been hanging around so much recently. Frank frowned.

Accidentally going home with Jensen once was one thing. Twice was… well, twice was going to the bar three days in a row and Jensen still being there and Frank was _not_ going to let the man ruin his good time just by being there. Of course, once he'd gotten well and drunk, he was more than happy to let Jensen take the lead. Damn him and his good looks and that godforsaken _voice_. But three times… three times was getting uncomfortably close to "dating" territory, and four would definitely be moving in that direction. But Frank needed to decompress, and alcohol and a good lay were generally the best ways to get it. But what to do about Jensen…

Frank leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. The Lonely Boot was his usual haunt due to it's convenient location near SI (and its parking garage), but it was far from the only club in the city. But he'd spent a couple weeks checking out the scene for the best place to relax, and his conclusion had been the Boot, so there was that. He could always just go home and drink, but that was usually more depressing than relaxing. And it wasn't like he was going to just dance in the middle of his apartment for the hell of it. With a sigh, Frank sat up and searched for the nearest bars and clubs. There were a couple he'd thought about hitting up before settling on the Boot. He supposed now he'd get the chance to check them out. Making up his mind, he logged out of the system and rose to head home and change.

He thought perhaps he could have just told Jensen he wasn't… interested, but then that wasn't exactly the truth. And he couldn't tell the man not to hang out at a bar. But he knew if he was drunk around Jensen, he'd end up in the man's apartment sooner or later that night, and that wasn't what he wanted from a night out. Or at least, he didn't think it was.

* * *

Adam took his last drink for the night, then paid the bartender and headed out. He'd been expecting to see Pritchard, it was getting to be that time, after all. But it looked like the technician wasn't showing tonight, so there was no reason to stay longer.

As he walked outside, Adam checked his watch. He didn't really _need_ a physical watch, but he'd seen an old analog in the window of a thrift shop and bought it on impulse. He'd fixed it up at home, and wore it now as a sort of nostalgia. One AM. With a sigh through his nose, Adam slipped his hands in his coat pockets and made his way back to the Chiron Building.

He saw him when he reached the bend in the hall leading to his room, but he wasn't sure until he'd gotten up to the door. But it was him, Pritchard, curled into a ball with his head tucked against his knees and his back to the wall. Next to the door to Adam's apartment, snoring. Adam shook his head, crouching down.

Frank was dressed the way he usually did when he went out; dark, form-fitting clothing, hair loose. There was the faint smell of alcohol about him, so he_had_ gone out. And gotten drunk, somewhere else. Adam frowned, then sighed. He stood, unlocking his door, and pushed it open. Then he leaned down again and picked up Francis, bridal style.

The tech wrapped an arm around Adam's neck subconsciously, causing the augmented man to feel the twitch of a smile. Adam walked through the door, kicking it closed, then made his way over to the couch. When he went to set his drunk colleague on his couch, however, he got a second surprise.

Pritchard's grip on him tightened slightly as if trying to hold him there. Adam pulled away, looking down at the man. There seemed to be something… troubled, about his expression. Without thinking, Adam smoothed the hair back from Frank's face, and the sleeping technician leaned into the touch. His features relaxed, and it made Adam catch his breath a little.

Sure, it was interesting, making out with Pritchard on occasion and then going on like it hadn't happened the rest of the time, but this was… different. This was… _connecting_. Adam felt like he was frozen; like the smallest movement would break the fragile thread between them. He felt like there was a wave rising inside of him; an immense pressure of some momentous, unrealized decision.

And then the moment passed, and Adam stood up and stepped away.

He went into his room, taking off his coat, and stripping out of his clothes. He took a shower, a cold one, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. He wanted… something. He'd _felt_ something. Something… _deeper_. Like a fish about to break the surface, so close that the water above it rippled and rose. It didn't feel… new, exactly, only… suppressed. Buried, or perhaps only unexplored.

He'd already admitted he liked Francis, but how far did that go? Adam hadn't considered it when he'd said it. At the time, he'd already considered his coworker a friend. So yes, he liked him. And so naturally, he'd wanted to keep him out of trouble, going to the bar and keeping Francis from going home with a random, potentially dangerous stranger. Or attempting to drive home and hurt himself. Casual make-outs seemed like a sort of bonus, and he couldn't exactly hold it against a drunk man. And when sober, Pritchard seemed to ignore anything to do with the previous night. Adam had considered that to be the end of it, really.

But now he wasn't so sure. He felt like he was at a breaking point; he would either have to commit to this, or stop. Completely. With a sigh, he closed his eyes and tilted his face into the spray. He let his thoughts drift for a while, just feeling the water on his skin and listening to the sound of it drumming on the floor. After a while, he got out, dried off and threw on a pair of boxers.

He walked back out to the den, checking on Pritchard. The man was still asleep, although fitfully. He'd turned into the side of the couch, eyes tightly sealed and grimacing. Adam had never noticed him sleeping that way when they were curled up together, and that seemed to make the decision for him. It seemed more simple than he'd thought it would be, but maybe this was just one of those times when things just… clicked.

And so Adam walked around to the front of the couch, turned Francis over and picked him up again. Like before, the tech curled into him, and Adam carried him over to the bed. He set Frank down, took a minute to pull off his shoes, then climbed into the bed himself. He pulled the tech against him, spooning him, the man's hair tickling his nose. He sighed, settling himself and pulling up the sheets, and slept.

* * *

Frank woke to the sound of an alarm bleating. He groaned, curling into himself, as his bed partner roused to lean over him and disable it. Pritchard tried to puzzle out who it was and what had happened last night, but it was all a bit fuzzy. He remembered a girl chatting him up, walking out and starting to make out with her, but then… he had felt something terribly _wrong_ somehow, and he'd left. And then…

The bed shifted, and then lightened as the man stood. Frank pulled the covers over his head as a light went on, and he heard a snort from somewhere in the room. The sound was familiar. There was a sound of general rummaging, and then a shower. Frank took the opportunity to sit up and look around.

Jensen's room. Right, now he remembered. He had stumbled along to the Chiron Building and fell asleep outside of Jensen's door. So it seemed it hadn't mattered that he'd gone somewhere else; he'd still ended up here. And this time, in the bed instead of on the couch. With a yawn, Pritchard flopped back down, curling into his side. He was too tired and too hungover to deal with this right now. He'd get some more sleep, then go home and try to puzzle this out.

As Frank was drifting off, he felt something hit his stomach and started awake again. He sat up, blinking, to see Jensen pulling on his coat. He looked down at his lap, picking up what the man had thrown at him.

"What's this?" he asked, completely lost as to why Jensen had thrown a key at him.

"My spare," the man replied. Frank looked up at him, still having a hard time between the light and the sleep in his eyes. "To the apartment. Don't lose it. My landlady doesn' like replacing things."

"Right," Frank said, staring dumbly at the key again.

"Have to take care of something at work," Jensen went on, turning off the light as he was leaving. "Lock up if you leave before I get back."

Frank made a grunt of acknowledgment, listening as the door opened and closed. He shook his head, turning to set the key on the table with the alarm clock, then paused just before letting go of it as the impact of it hit.

It was a key to Jensen's apartment. To get in if Jensen wasn't there. So he wouldn't be locked out again.

Frank swallowed, then held the key up again. This was definitely "relationship" territory. Without a doubt. He felt his hand tremor. Or was he just over-thinking this? It was, after all, just a key. To someone else's apartment. With no rules given on when or why he could use it. From someone he had accidentally told that he found them attractive and had also made out with on several occasions.

Without thinking, he stuffed the key in his pocket. This was fine. This was completely fine. It was just so he could lock up if he left before Jensen came back. If. That seemed like an invitation to stay. Did people normally invite coworkers to stay at their apartment and use their bed to sleep off a hangover? Frank put a hand to his forehead. All this thinking was giving him a headache. He laid down again, pulling up the blankets and shutting his eyes. He'd just get up in a minute, and return the key the next time he saw Jensen at work. Then he'd put this whole incident behind him and let things go back to normal.

He took a deep breath, then let it go, forcing himself to relax. That was it. He was just over thinking things, reading too much into it. He'd stay away from bars and clubs for a while, letting things adjust, and then go back to what he'd been doing before.

As he started dozing off, a little voice in Frank's head seemed to ask him if that was what he really wanted. He found, a little to his annoyance, he didn't have an answer to that.

* * *

When Adam came back, Francis had fallen back asleep. Not that there had been much doubt that he would, but considering his reaction to the previous times he'd woken up at Adam's apartment, the security head had half expected him to bolt.

Quietly, Adam got out of his clothes again and climbed back into bed. He'd had to check some physical security measures they'd recently installed, but everything was up and running. Gently, Adam pulled Francis into him, and the tech stirred. He blinked blearily, then closed his eyes again and let Adam pull him back.

"Didn't picture you as a cuddler…" he said, softly. He sounded half asleep, and probably was.

"Mm," Adam replied, "Didn't picture you as cuddly."

"Want the key back?"

"Keep it."


	3. Sick Day

Frank knew he wasn't going into work the moment he woke up. Mainly because what woke him up was someone pounding on the door to his apartment, so hard that the technician has half convinced they were going to knock it off its hinges. With a groan, he rolled off his bed, hitting the floor. The knocking continued, and Frank forced himself to his feet, keeping his cocoon of blankets as tightly wrapped as possible. Carefully, he peeked through the peephole before opening the door.

Adam was halfway into knocking again, the glared at the sight before him.

"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he demanded, crossing his arms. Frank grimaced, squinting at the man before turning to look at the clock on his microwave.

"Shit," he said, rubbing his eyes, forgetting he didn't have his contacts in. He shuffled over to the machine, barely registering Adam walking into the apartment behind him. He swore again. He was three hours late to work.

"Are you alright?" Adam asked, closing the door. He had just noticed the way Frank was shivering under the blankets, and breathing heavily through his mouth.

"No," the technician replied, "In fact, I feel like shit. Thanks for asking."

"No need to get short," Adam replied. Frank scoffed, shambling over to his couch, where he promptly collapsed into a heap.

"You nearly break my damn door down and I'm not allowed to be a little annoyed?" he asked, wrapping his blankets tighter around himself. Ugh, he hated being sick. Adam shook his head, then walked into the kitchenette and rummaged through the cabinets.

"Well, if you had bothered to answer any of my calls, I wouldn't have felt the need to come over," he said, frowning at the contents or lack thereof.

"Calls?" Frank asked, sitting up to squint in Adam's general direction. The augmented man sighed, shutting the cabinet he was in and turning around.

"Yes, Francis, calls," he said. "Seven, to be exact."

"Oh," the technician replied, laying his head back down. Adam shook his head, and moved through the small apartment, looking for the bathroom. He found it thru the bedroom, and picked up some cold medicine. He also noticed the contacts and glasses on the counter, and grabbed the latter as well. He took them over to the blanket burrito on the couch.

"Here, take this," he said, holding them out. It took Frank a minute to free his arms, but when he did, he slipped the glasses on first, then accepted the pills.

"Thanks," he said, pulling the blankets back around himself and settling back. Adam sighed, shaking his head as he stood. He called into work, letting them know what was going on while Prichard started snoring in the background. He looked for a thermostat. He hadn't noticed walking in, but the apartment was freezing. When he found it, he realized it had to be broken because there was no way it was seventy-two degrees. So, rolling his eyes, he went and shook Frank's shoulder.

"Huh? Wha?" Frank said, coming awake.

"Get dressed," Adam said, helping him sit up. "We're going to my place."

"What? Why?" Frank asked, vainly fighting the motion. Adam got him on his feet, pushing him along to his room.

"Because you're sick," the man said, closing the door to offer Frank some privacy. "The only food you have is instant meals and your thermostat's broken. Get dressed."

"Fine…" Frank muttered, mostly to himself. Painfully, he got out of the blankets and rummaged around the clothes on his floor to pull on jeans and a hoodie, hood up. When he was done, he slipped on a pair of tennis shoes without tying them and shuffled to the door. When he opened it, Adam straightened up from leaning against the wall. "Happy now?"

"I'm improving," was the reply. Adam took Frank's arm, gently leading the way outside, where a cab was waiting. They rode in silence, though Frank leaned in Adam to soak up his body heat. His head felt like it was full of white noise, and he just wanted to get back to sleep.

When they reached the Chiron Building, Adam led the way once again, slipping his arm around Frank's waist in the elevator. The tech leaned into him again, completely oblivious to the outside world. Adam pulled him along, down the hall and into his apartment. There, he sat Pritchard down on the couch, then retrieved the blankets from his room. By the time he'd brought them out, Frank had slipped off his shoes and curled into a miserable ball. And so Adam went back into his room and brought out the pillows as well, then sat on the other end of the couch and turned on the TV.

Frank wasn't sure how long it had been when Adam woke him up. He was feeling slightly less deplorable, enough to only mildly complain as the augmented man made him sit up and eat some soup he'd apparently had delivered. Then he took some more medicine, and Adam bitched at him until he got up and took a cursory shower as well. Surprisingly, that did clear his head a little, and he fell asleep more easily, this time in the bed rather than the couch.

Hours later, after going back into to work to get _some_ work done today, Adam checked on his sleeping house guest first. Still asleep, though he seemed to be breathing better than he had earlier. With a sigh, the head of security quietly went to shower, then climbed into bed himself. It took him a minute to disentangle the blankets enough to use them, but he didn't particularly mind.

He pulled Frank against him, glad to feel his earlier fever had gone down. The man stirred but didn't wake. In his sleep, though, he did turn over, and tucked his head under Adam's chin. Adam snorted, but wrapped an arm around him anyways, settling in for sleep.

"… thanks. For today," Frank said. Not so asleep after all, then.

"It's fine," Adam replied. "Just let me know sooner next time."

"Sure," Frank said, and they went to sleep.


	4. Sober, Scarred, and Serious

He doesn't want to go out. He does, but he doesn't. It's the feeling he usually gets when he's about to go out; like he's being wound too thin, like there's a copper wire wrapped around him so tight he can't breathe, and now it's slowly cutting into his skin, and the only way to loosen it is to be with another person. But he can't just be with someone, so he drinks, to soften the edges. All the while that tension is building, every moment until he just has to let someone else take his body away from him for a few hours, so he can float in the space between being awake and dreaming; disembodied, blank, unthinking, unfeeling. But he doesn't want to go out.

And it's all Jensen's fault.

He gets up, walks around. Paces his apartment. Wrings his hands, makes himself stop, starts it again. He feels like he's going to fly apart. His heart is too loud, too strong. It's going to burst if he doesn't go out. But he can't. Because they're in a relationship. Or, at least, he thinks they are. He's pretty sure having the key to someone else's apartment and having them take care of you when you're sick counts as being in a relationship. But they haven't talked about it, so maybe he's wrong. He strokes back his hair, stops at the window, paces again.

Can he just go over? The implication was there that he could. But he never has. At least, not when he was sober. If he goes over now, he has no excuse. Will Adam ask him for a reason? Anyone would. Anyone would want to know why their coworker/maybe-boyfriend was showing up unannounced at their apartment past midnight. And he'll have to tell him, won't he? Because he'll ask, and it wouldn't be fair not to say anything. He could call someone. A friend to come over, or to meet at a bar. But then he'd get drunk, and go to Jensen's, and he didn't exactly have friends, did he? Colleagues, admirers, acquaintances; he had those, but not friends. No one he wanted to talk about this with. But then, he didn't really want to talk about it at all.

He should. He knows he should. Especially if this almost relationship with Jensen was going to go anywhere. He needed to talk, to explain… this. He sighed, looking at the clock. Almost one in the morning. Would he be asleep? Would he be getting home from waiting to see if Francis would show up at the bar? Maybe. Possibly. He shakes his head, takes a deep breath, lets it out. He needs to talk. He needs to be with someone. And if he can't go out, he'll have to go see ihim/i. He paces again, then grabs his keys, deciding.

They'll talk. Well, he'll try. He'll try.

* * *

Francis stood outside of Adam's door, rose his hand to knock, stopped, put his hand down. He took out the key, the one Adam had given him. Should he knock? Should he use the key? Should he just stare hopefully at the door and send telepathic messages for Adam to let him in? Alright, that last one wasn't going to work, but he was still willing to try. But should he really be here? Was he ready for this? He sighed, looked at the door, and slipped the key back in his pocket. No, no, he'd come back some other day. Another day.

Of course, that was when Adam rounded the corner of the hallway.

The augmented man raised a brow at the sight of him, and Francis swallowed. His throat was suddenly dry. Oh god, he couldn't just leave now. It was like the universe was telling him that he needed to talk to this man. And he did; he did need to talk, but at the same time, he was terrified. He tried not to let it show as Adam walked up to him, casually leaning against the wall. Something in Jensen's face told him he wasn't doing a very good job.

"A little high strung, Francis?" the man rumbled, unlocking the door and waving him in. Frank entered cautiously, feeling suddenly like he didn't belong. Like he was invading Adam's space, and he should leave. But that was silly; he'd been here before plenty of times. And besides, the man himself had let him in. He wouldn't have done that if he were uncomfortable with the idea.

"I'm fine," he snipped, without meaning to. Adam raised a brow, retracting his shades and taking off his coat. Frank stood awkwardly in the doorway, hands clenching and unclenching with the effort to stay at his sides.

"You look like you want to bolt," Adam replied, facing him from across the room. Frank looked away, then back, then forced himself to walk over to the couch and sit. The movement was stiff, and he sat at the barest edge. He clutched his hands together, twiddling his thumbs.

"I'm just… a bit… wired," he said, trying to explain it. Adam nodded, coming over to sit next to him.

"I'd say that much was obvious," he said. "Turn the other way."

"Why?" Francis asked, but did so anyways. The reason became apparent when he felt hands on his shoulders, kneading the tense muscles there. He shot up, straight as a poker, but Adam kept at it. The motions forced him to relax, and Adam moved down his back, stroking and kneading. It felt fantastic. It felt wonderful. Frank sighed, letting the feeling take over for a minute; sinking into it, letting it overrule his anxiety. He couldn't quite give in, not yet, but he could let himself untense. Adam hadn't asked him yet. Why he was there. Sober. He was relieved. He wasn't sure if his explanation would make much sense.

And then Adam's fingers brushed the skin between his shirt and his pants, and he tensed up again.

"Something wrong?" the man asked, pulling his hands back. Frank took a breath, wanting to leave it be but knowing he couldn't. So, before he lost his nerve again, he grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled it over his head.

"I… I j-joined the army, out of hight school," he said. He hadn't heard a reaction from Adam; no sharp intake of breath or grunt of surprise. He didn't know what that meant. "I did a tour in Afghanistan. My first. We were supposed to be out of the action but… there was an attack. They took us by surprise. It took ten days for them to get to us. Somewhere in that time, a bomb went off, and I… I got hit by a piece of shrapnel. That's why… that's how I got it. The scar. That's… "

Adam looked at it. It was big; it started on the man's neck and got wider as it went down his back, almost parallel to his spine. It tapered off near the small of his back. And it made sense. The turtlenecks. Leaving his hair down when he wore low collared shirts. It was why Adam had never seen it before. Gently, he traced it, hand ghosting over the scar tissue. Frank took a sudden breath but stilled. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"Well, it's not like you were much to look at before," Adam said, resuming his ministrations over the bare back in front of him. Frank let out the breath he'd been holding, then laughed. It was a weak, shakey sound, but it was sincere.

"Thanks, I'm… flattered," he said. But mostly he was relieved. He could handle a lot of things. Disgust, that was one of the common reactions. Pity was the most common, and he hated it. He didn't need pity, didn't know what to do with it. Sometimes he felt like he was about to break into a million pieces, and the only thing that held him together was what was left of his pride. If everyone around him knew, about the scar, the tension, the nightmares… they'd start treating him like he was about to break. And then it wouldn't matter anymore. Because there was no point in hiding how fragile he was if everyone could see it.

"PTSD?" Adam asked. Frank swallowed, then nodded.

"It's… manageable. I went to therapy for a while but it… never seemed to stick. I just get… wired. Tense. Like…"

"Like you're waiting for something to go horribly wrong," Adam said. Frank groaned as the man hit a particularly tense muscle, then nodded.

"Yes, that, that exactly," he said, although he'd never been able to put it into words himself. "Do you-"

"No, but I've seen it," Adam replied. "In SWAT. Why did you join the army?"

"To get away from my parents," Francis replied.

"That bad?"

"No, I just… wanted to get out on my own."

"I see," Adam said. "Any siblings?"

"Two, a brother and a sister," Frank said.

"Do they know?"

"… no," he said, looking at a point on the floor. "I… I asked my parents not to tell them."

"Do you have a nightmares?" Adam asked. His voice was steadying; calm and stable, perfunctory. Almost like a nurse or a doctor. It was somehow comforting.

"Sometimes," Frank said. "When I'm most tense, usually, or under a lot of stress."

"Like with Panchaea?"

Pritchard closed his eyes, breathed in, breathed out. Yes, that had been a stressful time. He'd barely ate or slept, and things got particularly bad when Adam had gone off the grid. The man's hands went back to his shoulders, keeping him in the present. A reminder.

"Yes, like then," he said, voice softer than he'd meant it to be. Adam shifted, moved to sit between Frank and the couch, turning him to make the position more comfortable. He wrapped his arms around Frank's waist, and the tech leaned back against him.

"Let me know if it starts happening again," Adam said, just resting. "You can always come here."

"Thanks," Frank said, putting his arms over the ones around him. "Thank you."

Adam made a noncommital sound, resting his head against the back of the couch. It was a long time before they moved.


	5. First Kiss

They hadn't kissed since the last time Frank had gotten drunk, and that had been months ago. Frank wasn't sure if it was strange or to be expected. They'd been doing this maybe-dating thing in that time; Frank had been to Adam's apartment four or five times, usually just showing up nervously at the door and making quips until Adam made him sit down on the couch and they talked or watched TV. Frank wasn't sure if those actually counted as dates per se, but he'd never really dated, either. He had almost had something, once, but… that had ended badly. And after what happened in Afghanistan… he just found it hard to connect to people. To trust them enough to let them in. But now, this thing with Jensen, was… it was _something_. And he wanted it. So, in that case, it made sense that they would… well, kiss.

Which was what fueled Frank's decision to make that happen.

The first time, they were at Adam's apartment. Frank brought over food because, as great as waffles and cereal were, he didn't exactly consider them a balanced diet. He brought over Chinese takeout, which, admittedly, wasn't much better, but at least it was _different_. He'd also brought over the original Macross because somehow Jensen had managed to have never seen it. (Well, alright, Macross wasn't exactly _that_ popular, but still.) They relaxed on the couch, in their usual fashion.

Adam took up one side, claiming the corner between the armrest and the back to lean into. He had his legs spread, and threw one arm over the back. He always seemed completely at ease in his own space, and would generally end up sinking lower into the couch as he relaxed further.

Frank, on the other hand, kept almost completely to the other side. He sat up, not touching the back of the couch. He rested his elbow on one armrest, turned only slightly to face his companion. He was still uncomfortable in Jensen's space, but he was getting used to it.

What really ended up being the downfall in this plan was the choice of show. Jensen didn't seem to see the point of it. He kept questioning the relationship between Hikaru and Minmay, and making quips about the aliens. Frank, being himself, had to argue back each time.

"If they have a whole armada, why are they being stopped by just one ship?"

"Because it's a flagship."

"But the Zenchini-"

"Zentradi."

"The giant fucking aliens," Adam went on, and Frank was learning his language was much more relaxed outside of work, "Look like they have _three_ of those. And it's their technology, so they should be able to use it more effectively."

"Well, it wouldn't be much of a story if they did that, would it?" Frank said, shaking his head and setting down his fried rice.

"I'm just saying," Adam replied. "And why does he even like her?"

"Will you just watch the damn show?" Frank asked, glaring over at Jensen. The man waved a hand dismissively, having already finished his own food. There was something… telling, in his eyes, but Frank couldn't quite figure out what, and went back to watching the show. He couldn't really focus, though. He kept trying to think of a way to casually move closer to Adam, maybe lean back against him or… something like that. Something… natural.

"I really didn't expect a show about a giant robot fighting aliens to have so much singing," Adam said, later. Frank had made no progress, and flinched as Jensen sat up and started clearing the coffee table.

"That's just one of the things that makes it different," he said, moving to help. Jensen waved him off, and he leaned back reluctantly. Now would be that time, he thought. Adam was close enough, he could just lean up and…

"It's also pretty convenient that they keep coming up with the types of defenses they need right before they use them," the man said. This time, looking at Adam's face, Frank saw it. The smile. The smug as-close-to-a-shit-eating-grin-as-you-can-get-without-grinning smile.

"You smug bastard," Frank said, forgetting his plan as annoyance washed over him. "You've been baiting me."

"And you fell for it," Adam replied, continuing to smile as he deposited the bag full of styrofoam and paper containers in the trash. He sat down, leaning back and folding his hands over his stomach complacently. "Every time."

"... asshole," Frank said, half-heartedly kicking the leg nearest to him.

"See, now that's not nice," Adam said, kicking back. Not hard, of course, but enough to reciprocate. Frank decided he was wounded anyways.

"Ow!" he said, and leaned to punch Adam above the knee, where it was still flesh. In retaliation, the augmented man leaned up, punching Frank lightly in the arm. Which, given his augments, felt more like clipping the side of a counter. The tech hissed a breath, and glared. Adam held up his hands, utterly unapologetic.

"You started this," he said. Then he smiled, and Frank realized that this, _this,_ could be the moment. If he just leaned forward and…

Frank put his chin on his hand, turning back to the show.

"Just watch the damn robots and aliens."

The next time wasn't exactly planned. Frank was at the bar, but he wasn't drinking. He figured that maybe a less intimate setting would help keep his nerves down. That thought was dashed the minute Adam walked through the door and Frank almost spat out his water.

The man wasn't wearing his usual trenchcoat, dark shirt and slacks combo. Not that there was anything wrong with that; it was a good look for the head of security. Very intimidating. But it wasn't what he was wearing now. Now he was wearing dark, distressed jeans tucked into black combat boots, and a form fitting long-sleeve black shirt with some kind of orange triangle design sprouting from one of the shoulders. Admittedly, Frank had seen the man with less clothing on, but damn. He looked _good_.

"Sorry I'm late," Adam said, although they hadn't planned a time to meet. "Ran into Malik and she called my appearance 'a walking tragedy'."

"Then why didn't she fix your face?" Frank said, before he really thought about it. Adam rolled his eyes, ordering a drink.

"Very funny, Francis," he said, and took a swig of his beer. Seemed he was going light tonight. That was… good. Good. They would both be sober, or close enough. Good.

"You do look… good, though," he said, drinking his water. Adam looked at his glass, noting its contents, and raised a brow.

"Thanks," he said, and chose not to comment on the lack of alcohol. Frank felt twitchy. He wasn't really sure what to do with himself here when he wasn't shit-faced. "Have something planned tonight?"

"No-t really," Frank said, a little too fast and a little too into the 'no' he'd almost said at first. Adam's brow raised a little higher.

"Really?" he asked, moving a little closer. He took Frank's glass, sniffed at it. "Thought so. Water?"

"Just… trying to cut back," Frank answered. Adam was close enough he could feel his body heat. It was the perfect moment to just lean up, just a bit…

"Good for you," Adam said, handing him back the glass and taking a step back. He was still pretty close though, as he leaned against the bar. Frank could feel his hand start to shake, and he set down the glass.

"I'll be right back," he said, and threaded his way through the crowd to the bathroom. Once there, he splashed some cold water on his face and hands, trying to calm himself down. His nerves were making him feel uncomfortably warm. He looked at himself in the mirror. He could do this. They'd already made out. And slept in the same bed. And cuddled. And he'd told Jensen the most personal thing about himself that he hadn't told anyone else. He took a deep breath, then let it go. Steeling himself, he went back out into the bar.

And he stopped dead in his tracks. At the bar, Jensen was talking with someone. A woman, thick dark hair and dark eyes to match on brown skin, beautiful in an old-school Hollywood sort of way. She was thickset, but owned it as she very obviously flirted with the augmented man. Jensen was talking back, actually smiling a little. Frank swallowed. He could feel his anxiety washing over him, and tried to fight it back. It was nothing. Just a polite conversation. Jensen looked up, seeing him. Frank motioned at the dance floor, and Adam nodded, but raised a brow.

Frank threaded into the press of bodies. There were only two things he could really lose himself in; music and sex. And so he lost himself. He let the sound wash over him, dislodging him from his body, setting him adrift somewhere over the crowd. He moved, letting the base pump through him, matching his heartbeat to it. He wasn't sure how long he'd been dancing when he felt carbon-poly hands slip onto his waist.

"She's gay," Jensen said, which seemed to Frank an odd way to start a conversation when you were dancing against another man. "She was telling me about how she was glad to finally see more gay couples at bars not targeted at them."

"Oh," Frank said, and actually felt relieved. He didn't really like that it should make him feel relieved, because it shouldn't have made him so nervous to begin with. Adam seemed to sense the hesitance in his reaction, and leaned closer, so his beard scratched the shell of Frank's ear.

"And I would have continued the conversation, except I saw you out here and had to join you," he said, and Frank felt his skin flush. He kept dancing, but he was distracted by the man behind him. The hands on his waist, thumbs brushing the skin over his hips. Body close enough to feel heat coming off it. Face close to his own, ridiculous beard scratching the side of his neck every so often. And he'd seen Jensen dance; the man had no rhythm for it. But now, he was completely in sync with the music. Or, maybe, not the music.

It was that thought that finally broke Frank's dance-trance for good. WIth a sigh he pulled away, then turned to face Jensen. He put his arms around the man's shoulders, leaning up to be heard over the music.

"Want to get out of here?" he asked. He wasn't sure what his plan was, but Jensen nodded. They threaded their way out of the crowd, and Adam pulled Frank out of the bar by the hand.

"So, what made you want to leave?" he asked, still holding hands. Frank didn't feel a need or even particular want to pull away, so he kept pace instead.

"Tired," he said, and it was true. His near anxiety attack had taken it out of him. And then of course there had been the dancing. He stumbled a little, leaning into Adam. "Sorry."

"It's fine," the other man said. "Want me to walk you home?"

"Can we just go to your place?"

Frank surprised himself with how easily he asked, and almost tried to take it back. But Adam squeezed his hand, as if anticipating the thought.

"Yeah, that's fine," he said, and led them back to the Chiron Building.

When they got in, Frank pretty much crashed once his head hit the pillow, and another opportunity was lost.

The next morning was really the next chance he had. He woke up slowly, gray dawn light filtering in from the windows in the living room. He blinked, contacts dry as he cleared his sight. He was surprised to find Adam already awake, leaning on his arm, watching him.

"Morning," Frank said, closing his eyes again as his contacts felt too big. He heard Adam snort.

"Morning," he said. "Do you plan on staying awake for it?"

"Maybe," Frank replied. Adam snorted again, and Frank felt a hand card through the hair. Adam rested his hand there, thumb stroking the tech's temple. Frank made an effort to open his eyes again and look at Adam.

The shades were retracted, and the augmented man was still just… looking right at him. It was a little disconcerting. Not that he was looking at him, just… the expression on his face. It was… soft. Contemplative. He looked younger, relaxed. He tilted his head slightly as Frank kept looking back at him.

"Want breakfast?" he asked. Frank did, but he didn't particularly want to move at the moment. He was just… very comfortable. He didn't want to lose the thumb stroking his temple, or the steadying presence of the man laying next to him.

"Not now," he said, watching those yellow-green eyes as the optics adjusted to the increasing light. Adam smiled, like he knew what Frank was thinking, but didn't say anything. Maybe he felt it, too.

Now would be a perfect time to kiss him. The mood was right, they were so close, and it felt so natural to just…

And then his stomach let out a rumbling growl, and Adam laughed, sitting up.

"I think your stomach's in disagreement with you on that one," he said. He patted Frank's thigh as he stood. "I'll get something started."

Frank sat up and watched him go. He looked down, glaring at his abdomen. _Way to go, me,_ he thought. _Another opportunity squandered._

And then, smelling coffee and bacon, he finally forced himself out of bed and into the kitchen.

The next opportunity was kind of a fluke. There had been a situation at work involving a plastic flamingo hooked up to a drone flying around the building, and it had taken the greater part of an hour for Adam to find the perpetrators, a couple of teenagers hanging around outside. They were let off with a stern warning, but it made for enough of a disruption that the Head of Security needed to stay late to finish up his work. Frank, who usually worked late, had gone out for take out. When he knocked on Adam's door, the man looked up with an expression of relief.

"Thanks," he said, accepting the fast food and immediately pulling out the fries and chocolate shake thing. Frank rolled his eyes, sitting on the couch in the office and pulling out his own food.

"I'm sure you were wasting away without it," he said, eating chicken nuggets. It wasn't his usual fare, but Adam was apparently a child in a giant, intimidating adult body. The point was proven as he used the fries in lieu of utensils.

"As a matter of fact, I was," he said, retracing his shades to look across at Frank. "I was starting to wonder if I'd pass out at my desk, as my cells resorted to cannibalism to get energy, so there would be nothing left in the morning when-"

Frank threw a fry at him. He didn't even try to dodge it, it just hit him in the face and dropped to the floor. Adam scooted his chair back to lean down and retrieve it.

"This is how we get ants, you know," he said, tossing the fry in the nearby trashcan.

"It's a small price to pay," Frank replied, finishing the nuggets and putting the empty container back in the bag and getting out his own fries. "Besides, I might as well get some use out of them before you decide to come over here and steal mine."

Adam was also, Frank had learned, an incorrigible food thief. Which he proved by getting up and sitting next to Frank on the couch and pilfering a fry.

"I suppose you have a point," he said, grabbing another one even as Frank tried to pull them away. The tech gave him a look.

"You're such a child," he said, shifting to sit turned away from the Head of Security. Adam chuckled.

"I'm a child?" he asked, still managing to snake a hand around to steal yet another fry.

"Yes! Case and point!" Frank said, scooting further forward as Adam tried to steal another fry from him.

"It's just a fry Francis," he said, amusement evident in his tone.

"Well, it's my fry, and you can't have it," Frank shot back, just before Adam switched tactics from reaching around the tech to grabbing his shoulder and twisting him back so they were facing each other. With his enhanced strength, there was very little Frank could do but glare as he held him that way and stole another fry right in front of him. "And this somehow makes you less of a child?"

"I never disagreed with you," Adam said, smiling. "You just make it too easy."

"Too easy to do what?" Frank asked.

"To work you up," Adam replied, and the tech was suddenly aware of the fact that they were in a slightly compromising position. Adam was half on top of him, face only inches away. And if he just tilted his head up slightly…

Someone cleared their throat from the door, and Adam sat up so Frank could see Sarif with a bright smile leaning against the doorframe. Frank sat up and covered his eyes with his hand, suddenly wishing he was anywhere else.

"Something you need, Boss?" Adam asked, completely nonchalant.

"Not really, I was just stopping to see how the Flamingo Report was coming along," he said. Frank let his hand dropped and looked over. It was possible that Sarif had just shown up. But, given the man's shit eating grin, it was more likely he'd been there for longer than that.

"Just finished it and sent it up to you a few minutes ago," Adam went on, face neutral. Sarif nodded, standing straight.

"Good to know, son," he said. He paused, considering what to say next. "Don't stay too late. Wouldn't want work to get in the way of… other plans."

"I'll keep that in mind," Adam said, walking around his desk to finish up whatever he'd been working on before. Sarif nodded again, then looked over at Pritchard.

"Frank," he said, still smiling. Smarmy bastard.

"David," the tech replied evenly. Sarif made one more nod, and sort of swung his body around on his heel to turn. He started whistling as he sauntered down the hall, and Frank was annoyed at the way the color rushed to his face. He looked over at Adam, who was smiling. "Oh, shut up."

"I didn't say anything," Adam replied, and Frank glared before getting up and leaving.

The timed after that was… mostly planned. Malik had invited them to a party she was throwing in her apartment (that she apparently shared with three other people), and had refused to take no for an answer. Frank had decided that if he had to go, he might as well use it to his advantage. Of course, he hadn't really expected the kind of party Faridah threw.

First of all, it was themed. But nothing so normal as say, the 80's. Oh no. This party was, as Malik put it, 'post-apocalyptic 70's glam rock-punk fusion'. Whatever _that_ meant. Besides men and women in faded neon clothing with random tactical gear and bright, ruined make-up. There were several people, Frank and Adam included, that didn't dress up. Malik, decked out all the way, didn't particularly seem to care either way.

"You actually came!" she declared in delight, wrapping Frank in a quick hug as she saw him.

"Well, I did say I was going to…" he said, which made Malik laugh.

"Yeah but you usually find a way to flake out at the last minute," she said. Frank frowned, but she wasn't wrong. "Even Adam showed up!"

"He did?" Frank asked, trying not to sound relieved. He'd been worried the augmented man would skip out, but had also relied on the man's innate sense of honesty. He had never known Adam not to do something he'd said he was going to do, and he had agreed to go to Faridah's party.

"Yeah. I mean, I couldn't get him to dress up or anything, but he did show up," the woman said, not seeming to notice anything amiss. "And wearing something other than all black, even."

"Really?" Frank asked, looking around the party for the familiar figure. Malik pointed him out, leaning against the wall in a corner of the room. He was, indeed, wearing a color other than black. It was a deep blue tee shirt, which was a bit of a marvel in itself, with what looked like a kind of band logo on it in white. He wore it with jeans, and had one hand in his pocket and the other holding a drink as he scanned the room.

"Yeah, but he's just stood there the whole time," Malik pouted. Then she shrugged. "Well, baby steps."

"Baby steps for what?" Franks asked, turning away.

"Socializing the gloomy and fun challenged," Malik replied, eyes shining as she smiled. Frank crossed his arms and raised a brow.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. Malik laughed, turning to greet someone else that had entered the room.

"Just enjoy yourself, Frank!" she called back. The tech sighed, looking around the party again. It wasn't really his scene, and he tried to nonchalantly make his way over to where Adam was.

"Hurt yourself there?" Adam asked as he walked over.

"Excuse me?" Frank asked, leaning against the wall next to the head of security. Adam shook his head.

"You're about as subtle as a semi, you know that?" he asked, taking a sip of his drink.

"I have no idea what you mean," Frank replied, looking the other way. Adam rolled his eyes.

"I saw you walking over here from across the room," he said.

"Coincidence," Frank replied.

"Right, it's just a coincidence you took the most convoluted and round-about route to end up in this corner of the room," Adam said. He sounded irritated.

"Do you have a problem?" Frank asked, turning to glare at him. Adam shook his head curtly.

"No, I'm fine," he said. Frank crossed his arms.

"Really?" he asked. Adam turned to look at him, like he was trying to school his expression into something less hostile.

"Yes, really," he said. Frank rolled his eyes.

"Clearly," he said.

"Sarcasm isn't helping," Adam said. Frank glared.

"Not helping what? Since you're _fine_," he said. Adam finished his drink.

"Can we not do this?" he asked, looking around the room. Frank scoffed.

"Not do what, exactly?" he asked. A couple people looked over as he raised his voice. Adam clearly didn't want a scene, as a hand came up to half cover his face. Well, if he wasn't going to say what was irritating him, then Frank wasn't going to let him off lightly.

"Listen, we can talk later-"

"About what? You're _fine,_ remember?" Frank said. Adam was glaring right back.

"Francis-"

"I don't have to deal with this," Frank said, turning and walking away. He was stopped by Adam grabbing his arm.

"Can you shut up and listen for just a minute?" he demanded, speaking through his teeth. Frank tried to shake him off, but given Adam's augments, he couldn't even make him budge.

"Let go," he said, glaring. Adam waited a beat, then let go. Frank looked around the room, and noticed everyone was staring. He sighed, and motioned Adam to go back to the corner they'd been in before. Adam did, and Frank joined him. "I'm listening."

"I'm… sorry," Adam said. "I didn't mean to gripe at you. I'm just frustrated right now."

"About what?" Frank asked, crossing his arms. He was somewhat mollified by the apology, but he was still pissed off.

"I can't tell you," Adam said. He caught Frank's eyes, willing him to accept it. The tech glared. Adam's face broke, just a little. "Not here, alright?"

"... fine," Frank said, looking away. Damn him. That wasn't fair. The hurt puppy look should be illegal, especially on a man that so little resembled a puppy. He heard Adam move.

"Wait here a minute," he said. Frank rolled his eyes, wondering where the other man thought he would go. He watched the augmented man make his way over to a laptop. It looked like it was hooked up to the speakers that were currently blaring out music fitting the occasion. Adam took a look through, then selected a song.

The opening chords were guitar, soft and something familiar. Adam waited at the computer as the lyrics started. They seemed pretty sappy, but there was something very familiar about the song. Frank was trying to place it as it hit the chorus.

He almost burst out laughing. Across the room, Adam broke out in a smile, crossing his arms watching Frank's reaction as Airplay's _All Out of Love_ blasted through the room. Finally, shaking his head, the tech made his way across the crowded apartment.

"It seems a bit dramatic," he said, almost shouting over the speakers.

"But it worked, didn't it?" Adam asked.

Frank almost did it then. It was sappy and ridiculous and actually kind of sweet, and he almost grabbed Adam by the front of his shirt and pulled him down to kiss him.

"Ah! No! Did you guys see who was messing with the music?" Faridah said, appearing out of nowhere. Frank practically jumped away from Adam in surprise. Adam rolled his eyes at that.

"No, didn't notice anyone," the augmented man said easily.

"It just totally ruined the mood!" Faridah replied, changing the song to something else. Frank shook his head at Adam, but smiled wryly.

"Are you sure you didn't just put the song in the wrong playlist?" Adam asked, and Faridah turned around to pout at him.

"Of course not! I have no idea how it got in there! Ugh! I spent all last night on that playlist!" she said, crossing her arms. Then she sighed, and smiled. "Oh well, whatever, no harm done. Besides, who doesn't love a good 80's love ballad?"

"I'm not sure if I'd call it a ballad…" Frank said, looking around the room. Faridah laughed.

"I didn't know you were so into music, Frank," she said. Frank shrugged.

"I have my moments," he said, smiling wryly again. Malik clapped him on the shoulder with a grin.

"Well, glad you're having fun," she said. "I don't think I've ever seen you smile before, you know?"

"I… I'm sure I have…" Frank said, suddenly struck with how little he did smile. But then someone called Faridah, and the woman waved as she went into the crowd. Adam's hand landed on Frank's shoulder as he leaned in.

"Hey, want to get out of here?" he asked. Frank looked around, then shrugged. There honestly wasn't much else he could think of doing, so he and Adam left.

It was downpouring when they reached the street level, and they stood under an awning in front of Malik's apartment complex.

"Think it will let up?" Frank asked. It was quiet outside, after the noise of the party. Adam shrugged, looking into the rain. He seemed to be thinking about something, and Frank remembered what he'd said inside. "So, are you going to tell me what has you frustrated?"

"I…" Adam started, then paused. He seemed to be organizing his thoughts, so Frank didn't press him. "It's not… it's not you, I mean-"

"What?" Frank asked, caught completely off guard. He'd felt that maybe it had been related to him, but then had figured he'd just been being paranoid. The fact that Adam had started off with that sentence clearly meant it _was_ about him, and made his stomach sink. Adam held up his hands, trying to backtrack.

"That's not what I meant," he said.

"Then what did you mean?" Frank asked, trying to cover up feeling hurt with feeling angry. The way Adam looked at him suggested he wasn't doing well on that front.

"I meant… well, it's about you and our… relationship, but it's not-"

"It's not me?" Frank asked, feeling his brow raise. He crossed his arms, feeling suddenly colder. This was a break up, wasn't it? _It's not you, it's me_. Right, sure, ok. No wonder he hadn't wanted to do this at the party. He was being kind.

"No, that's not-"

"Save it," Frank said, turning and walking into to the rain.

"Francis!" Adam said, without moving at first. When Frank kept going, he cursed and jogged after him. "Francis! Listen!"

"I think I've heard enough," Frank said, trudging on. Adam stepped in front of him, blocking his way.

"Stop jumping to conclusions!" Adam said. Frank looked up at him, wanting to be angry but not having the heart for it. Adam looked angry, and maybe a little bit panicked.

"Then what were you going to say?" he asked. Adam took a breath, then let it go. The rain made his hair go flat, and Frank could feel his own hair sticking to the sides of his face. They were both already soaked through, as Adam slowly lowered his arms from where they'd been.

"I love you," he said. Frank blinked at him.

"Wh-what?" he asked, feeling like he'd been rooted in place.

"I love you," Adam said, again. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking away. "I… I didn't want to tell you, I was waiting for you to make a move. You looked like you wanted to, sometimes, and I thought if I pushed you-"

"Shut up," Frank said, and actually surprised Adam by grabbing both sides of his face and pulling him down for a kiss.

The response was delayed by a moment, but then Adam's arms wrapped around Frank's back, pulling him closer as he reciprocated. It felt amazing, despite the cold and the rain. Frank wanted to melt into the sensation, drawing out the moment for what felt like an eternity.

Eventually, he pulled away, just enough to look up into Adam's eyes. The augmented man looked back at him with what looked like relief and a little awe. Frank didn't think anyone had looked at him like that before, and he leaned up for another kiss, wrapping his arms around Adam's shoulders to press closer into him. Adam responded by wrapping his arms tighter around the tech, and they continued kissing for a good while before either of them decided it was time to move.

"You'll get sick again at this rate," Adam said, forcing himself to take a step back. Frank actually laughed.

"That's all right," he said, smiling ruefully. "I have a good nurse."

"Nurse, is it?" Adam asked, and watched as Frank walked ahead of him, in the direction of the Chiron Building. The tech turned, arching a brow.

"Coming?" he asked. Adam smiled, and took Frank's hand as they walked through the rain.


	6. Rosy Fingered Dawn

Frank was still tired when he woke up, but in a good way. Like a lazy Sunday morning kind of way, where everything felt sort of hazy and heavy and thick. He's laying half on top of Adam, which seems like a very comfortable place to be. He can feel the arm wrapped loosely around his waist, and tries to remember when they got under the blankets. Deeming it unimportant, he stays still, drifting between being awake and dozing. It's Adam's snoring that keeps waking him up, that weird, cute snuffle. Finally, realizing he wasn't getting back to sleep, the technician pushes up on his elbows, shifting lay down beside his partner.

Adam looks relaxed in his sleep. It's a good way to see him. Frank leans his head on his arm, still tired, watching the augmented man sleep. He eyes droop, and he spaces out, watching as light starts to fill the apartment. Then, without much thought, he leans up to kiss the corner of Adam's mouth, softly. He pulls back away, but the augmented man cracks one eye open. He looks at Frank, then closes his eye again. With a soft sigh, his hand curves up to thread into the hair at the nape of the technician's neck.

Further encouraged, Frank kisses the corner of his partner's mouth again. Then, hesitating a moment, he gives Adam a chaste kiss of the lips. The augmented man strokes with his thumb, kissing back. Frank pulls up to look down at him, then shifts to kiss Adam's nose. His partner cracks an eye open at him again at that, then snorts and shakes his head, moving his other hand to wrap around the technician's waist. Frank smiles a little at the small gesture, and kisses Adam's cheek.

Adam's hand strokes his partner's back, gently, slowly. Everything seems to be slow this morning, but in a good kind of way. Frank kisses the augmented man's temple, then the corner of one eye, and the other. With a smile, Adam rolls, pinning the technician under him. The augmented man kisses a trail down his jaw, holding Frank close against him. The tech doesn't seem to mind, letting his own hands rest on Adam's back.

The augmented man kisses Frank's neck, his collarbone, then his shoulder. The tech watches him, just enjoying the attention. Adam opens his eyes to look up at him.

The light of dawn is turning golden, and it reflects off the security chief's skin well, giving him a kind of glow. Frank raises a hand to cup the other man's cheek, and Adam leans into it. He moves close, and they both close their eyes as they kiss again. It's slow and languid, heavy and warm. Frank's other hand comes up, against Adam's neck. The augmented man still has his arms wrapped around the tech, but loosens his grip as he pushes up.

Frank blinks at him in surprise as the security head kisses his nose. Adam smiles down at him, mischievous. Frank smiles back wryly, and leans up to peck his partner on the cheek. In retaliation, Adam kisses his forehead, and so Frank kisses the corner of his eye. Adam kisses Frank's chin, and the tech kisses his temple. Then Adam starts laughing, and Frank's smile softens. He pulls his partner down, for another real kiss.

This one lasts longer, but is chaste. They pull back, and look at each other. The way the light hits Frank's eyes makes them turn a shocking shade of blue, and Adam surprises himself by shifting to kiss just above one eye, then the other. Frank gives him an odd look, then something seems to light up in his eyes. He blushes, lightly, then kisses Adam's forehead. This time isn't play, but just soft and sweet.

Adam turns, and kisses the palm against his face. He reaches up to gently hold Frank's wrist, kissing down his hand and up his arm. The tech raises a brow at him, then rolls his eyes. Adam smiles, and shifts to kiss the tech on the cheek. Frank turns to catch his mouth, and this kiss is a little less than chaste, but still soft and languid.

They're in no hurry, and take their time as they deepen this kiss. There isn't any heat in it, just enjoying the sensation of kissing each other. Adam rolls them over again, so Frank is laying on top. The tech pulls up, looking down at his augmented partner.

He kisses Adam's neck, down to his collarbone, then back up, and along his jaw. Adam smirks, and Frank nips him for it. The augmented man laughs, and tugs the tech against him close. Frank shifts to lay against his side again, placing a kiss on Adam's shoulder. The augmented man looks at him sidelong, still able to feel the sensation on his augs. With this realization, Frank pushes up on his elbows again.

He pulls Adam's hand up, and kisses the back of it softly. Adam watches him, a look of adoration on his face that makes Frank feel self conscious. The tech turns the augmented hand, kissing the palm, and down the wrist. He would have continued, but Adam frees his hand to cup Frank's face, tugging him up to kiss him on the lips. It's chaste and slow, seeming to last for much longer than it could have possibly been.

Frank settles on top of Adam, nuzzling the augmented man's neck. Adam pushes the tech's hair out of the way, and continues to stroke it as he starts to doze.

Outside, the light grows brighter, even as the men inside fall back asleep.


End file.
